Misdirection
by Snaperipper
Summary: This one-shot story was intended for the Hermione's Haven Facebook group. My Roll was a story with Neville Longbottom and Hermione Granger and the trope was fake dating. With a limit of 1000 words, it was a bit hard to get there. I hope that you can see it and I truly hope that you enjoy it.


Wow, I have finally completed my Roll-A-Drabble for February 2019. This one-shot story was intended for the Hermione's Haven Facebook group. My Roll was a story with Neville Longbottom and Hermione Granger and the trope was fake dating. With a limit of 1000 words, it was a bit hard to get there. I hope that you can see it and I truly hope that you enjoy it.

Misdirection

Ok, maybe she was in the wrong, maybe she should have allowed Ronald "no table manners" Weasley his day as the Keeper of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, which he wouldn't have been chosen for if it hadn't been for her. Yes, he saved a lot of goals, yes, they won the game. She had been trying to say that if he had just had confidence in himself instead of believing in the power of Felix that she had believed Harry had provided for him, because what wouldn't Harry do for his Best Friend even if he was a giant pratt most of the time that would turn on you with his next breath, that she knew that he could do it all along. Why should she care anyway?

And then, after she thought that this might be a bump in the road for them, but that they would get through it and maybe give their relationship a go, he goes and shoves his tongue down Lavender Brown's throat. Honestly, the term tonsil hockey had never made as much sense as it did in that moment. Maybe she got off lucky? If that was finesse, then she had dodged a bullet.

So why was she here crying over the ginger jerk? She had no idea. No that wasn't true. She was tired. Tired of being the best friend to her two clueless friends, tired of being the homework helper, the researcher extraordinaire. She was tired of trying to save Harry from his stupidity, she thought rubbing the scar that bisected her chest, tired of trying to impress upon the two the importance of their education and the need to be cautious in the shadow of this war.

Tiredly she cast the Avis charm and resigned herself to hanging out in one of the many unused abandoned school rooms until the spit show ended. Closing her eyes, she didn't spot Neville standing by the door witnessing her inner conflict.

He had never understood the odd friendship, if that is what you wanted to call it between Ron, Harry and Hermione. It never seemed balanced. Never was it equal, it always seemed like Hermione was carrying the load of their personalities, their responsibilities and even their consciences at times. Now the poor witch just looked tired. Like the load had just gotten too heavy for her to hold.

Scraping his foot against the floor as he entered the room, he wanted to warn her of his arrival. Wiping her eyes quickly, she looked up cautiously before she gave a small tearful smile to her friend. She appreciated the moment to collect herself, she was glad that it was Neville that had followed her rather than Harry or gods forbid Ronald.

"Hey Hermione, you okay?" asked Neville cataloguing the fatigue that he could see in her eyes and the drop of her shoulders.

"About as well as can be expected Nev, you saw the mess that happened back there." Hermione replied closing her eyes and rubbing the bridge of her nose. "I know that what I said to him came out the wrong way, but I thought that almost six years of friendship might have redeemed me at least a little bit. I had hoped that he would have at least understood the intent behind my words."

"Awe Hermione, you know yourself that he has the emotional range of a teaspoon at times." Replied Neville with a bit of snark to his voice.

"I guess I had hoped that as we got older that maybe he would see me as a grown witch and not just the swotty friend whom if he bugs enough will do his homework."

"I don't believe that no one has noticed that you are a grown witch Hermione, you went to the Yule Ball with Victor Krum, he was your first kiss, I would imagine?" Neville questioned sitting down beside Hermione and bumping shoulders with her.

Hunched over and stifling the laugh that was trying to escape she looked up to Neville from beneath her heavy lashes. "Victor wasn't the one that stole my first kiss."

Confused he looked down at the girl beside him. "Hermione, I came across the two of you kissing in the library."

"That wasn't my first kiss Neville, Percy actually stole my first kiss after the fiasco at the World Cup."

Looking a bit gobsmacked, Neville asked "Percy? Straight laced Percy Weasley stole your first kiss?"

"Hey, don't knock it until you try it, whomever stole his first kiss, taught him a few things." Smiled Hermione in remembrance.

Blushing red Neville heard a giggle in the hallway outside of their room. Thinking quick he turned to Hermione and took her face in his large hands and looked down into her beautiful brown eyes. "I hear Lav and Won Won coming, what do you think of showing me a few things that you've learned, the Weasley that stole my fist kiss was kind of lacking in finesse. "

Sighing softly she looked up into the eyes of one of her first friends and nodded her head slightly before replying. "Yeah I think that I can do that."

The softness of her lips and the feel of her arms coming up around his neck before her fingers tunneled into his hair made Neville wish that this was both of their first kisses and that they weren't pretending for her to save face with the man that never deserved her. He wished that he had the courage of his house to claim her as his girlfriend properly instead of wondering if he was just a rebound until Ron Weasley took his head out of his arse.

As much as Hermione had enjoyed her first kisses from Percy, she too wished that she and Neville might have experienced their first kiss together instead of in retaliation of the boy who would never get a clue. But for now, this was just a misdirection.


End file.
